There’s a guy who used to work at my old job. The guy was one of those people who never shut up. One time, I tried to out-talk him. I cut him off in mid-sentence. Rather than stopping the word he was on, he hung on it. “Chicken finnnnnnnnnnnnn” he sputtered, the air slipping from his lungs while I talked. Amazingly, he held the word until I finished talking and continued his setence as if I had said nothing at all.
The guy who got sat immediately to my left in the Country Club game could’ve been Mr. Talker’s brother. He sounded like him, looked quite a bit like him, and had facial impressions like him. The only thing was, although I had immediately pegged him as a dolt because he looked like Mr. Talker, he wasn’t an idiot. Within the first 30-minute level, he had sbo liberated one player’s entire stack holding pocket aces that made a boat on the turn (incidentally, his opponent had such a marginal hand, I thought it might’ve been a case of chip dumping. Being new to the game, though, I kept my mouth shut).
In the first hour and a half, I played few memorable hands. Pocket jacks on the button got two callers but looked ugly after an ace came on the flop. AQ in the small blind flopped two-pair and had a bettor behind me with a weak ace. Ready for the check-raise, the board paired on the turn and put a possible flush out there on the turn. I won the hand, but didn’t maximize my profits on it.
At the first break I was just barely above my T2000 starting stack.
During the break, I got into a conversation with a guy who noticed my WPBT Holiday Classic T-shirt.
“What’s that” he asked.
I did my best to explain the concept of online poker writing, yada yada, “Have you ever heard of poker blogs?”
That’s when a guy dressed in all black behind me said, “I had a blogger write about me before. I was in Nassau at the WPT event and sat next to Daniel Negreanu all day.”
I cut him off, “That was me.”
Oddly enough, a local player here played at the PokerStars Caribbean Adventure and I had blogged about him earlier this year. When he gave me his name (and oddly, an approximation of his net worth), I figured out who he was. His name is one synonymous with a chain of car dealerships here.
I wandered around the room during the break. I’d already been pegged as “That writer guy” and several poeple stopped to ask me when my next article is coming out (incidentally, the anwer is next month in CardPlayer).
A few of the guys stroked my ego for a while, either peppering me with questions about my travels or complimenting me on the restraint I showed when I flopped the two-pair with he AQ. I knew it was all bullshit. These guys are poker players and they don’t give a damn about me. They want my money.